Isaac Hawke
by Javelinia777
Summary: Delve into the world of Issac Hawke, a mage-hating mage as this story traces his journey through Kirkwall's many seasons with a gorgeous pirate by his side.
1. Shocking News

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and I do not stand to profit from it.**

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><p>AN: This is in response to the Pro-Templar Mage Challenge set by HostilePlatypus. Thanks for the idea and I hope you like this story.

So, yeah, Issac Hawke is basically a Mage-hating, Pro-Templar mage. I don't know if anyone has done it yet but I simply loved this idea. The story is rated M for language and some scenes later on. There will also be a lot of clashes between Anders and our main character and a tempestuous romance with the lovely Isabella. Anything else you want, please add it in your review. Thank you.

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><p>Chapter 1: Shocking news<p>

"It's been a year since we have arrived in Kirkwall and we're still stuck in this hellhole."

The above sentence was said by a very anguished Carver Hawke. The 'hellhole' he was referring to was of course his uncle Gamlen's house. He couldn't stand it anymore. He hated the place, even if it was the only one he could call home in the whole wide city of Kirkwall. Lowtown was crowded and smelly and there wasn't a single street where he could walk comfortably without being accosted by a beggar or some cheap, opportunistic prostitute. He missed Lothering sometimes, its clean fresh air, scenic village vistas and… Not again, thinking about Lothering always brought back memories of her."

"Now, now Carver," said Leandra Hawke, as she cleaned their dinner plates with a dirty dish rag. "Once your brother returns from his expedition in the Deep roads, we'll be rich. We'll have enough money to regain our status and as soon as the viscount hears my petition…"

That did it. His temper had already been stretched thin due to the events of the past few weeks and now he lost it completely. He banged his fist on the table, causing the last two remaining dinner plates to topple down and break, scattering thin, white, porcelain pieces throughout the room. Both mother and son were shocked. Carver couldn't believe what he had done. Mother had been harping on about regaining the lost honor of the Amell's ever since they had arrived in Kirkwall. It seemed to consume every single conversation that she had with him or anyone else. There was simply no end to it.

Then, six weeks ago, his elder brother Issac had gone on an expedition in the Deep roads along with Varric, Fenris and Aveline. Yes, that was right, it had been six weeks! Four weeks at the most, his brother had promised and there was still no sign of him or his three companions. The ones who had arrived after four weeks were the other members of their expedition minus Bartrand. He had questioned them diligently about the whereabouts of the missing five but those efforts had been rendered fruitless.

After the fifth week, his uncle Gamlen had given up hope and started demanding rent. He had even threatened to evict them the day before. His mother of course, was a paragon of endless hope and never tired of expressing her phenomenal faith in her eldest son and how he would turn around their fortunes, as soon as he returned. Whenever that would be, thought Carver. He, however was growing impatient. Where are you Issac? I should have gone with you, even if you said not to. I knew something was going to happen. You're stuck somewhere, aren't you? If only I was there to help. I know mother needs me here but… and his mind descended into the same whirlwind of thoughts it went into everyday.

Leandra's sobs broke the barrage. "I have lost a husband whom I loved and cherished. Lost a daughter who always held me in her highest esteem and the one responsible son I have is missing." She sniffled.

Carver wanted to reach out and soothe her but somehow, he couldn't bring the words to his mouth nor force his legs to move. He stood rooted to the spot, feeling immensely guilty for hurting his mother. He knew she wasn't happy with the state of affairs either, but unlike his stark negativity, her positive attitude had always held the family together.' She was right', he thought. He really was like his father. The old man had always found something or the other to complain about, even on the days when everything went right and in order.

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><p>Isabella silently swirled her drink and didn't even pay attention when a smiling, young mage seated himself in the chair opposite her. "Still moping over a missing, tall, dark and handsome mage, Isabella," said Anders when she had finally looked up to meet his gaze.<p>

The vivacious, young pirate was quick to reply, "How can he be missing, when he's right before me," she said.

"As always, quick to flirt the moment a handsome man comes in your radar,' he chuckled. "That's the Isabella I know. Not the one who has been moping around the docks, for the past two weeks."

Isabella quickly took offense at that. "Hey, I haven't been moping. I'm just, just a little put down that's all."

She looked straight into his light brown eyes, "Its been six weeks, Anders. I know that you're as worried as me. Don't pretend"

The mage's face became slightly grimmer. "You're right," he conceded, "but I don't know what do. I tried enquiring among some of my Grey Warden contacts but even they haven't seen or heard anything. And we can't send our own search party into the deep roads. My hands are tied Isabella. There is nothing we can do but wait."

Isabella looked at her drink again, disappointed. As much as she didn't want to believe him, she knew he was right. There was nothing they could do but wait.

"Am I interrupting something?" Both of them looked up, startled at the familiar, deep, masculine voice.

"Ah… my young lover. Of course, you're not interrupting anything. Join us, younger Hawke. Maybe you can help spice things up! I always love a threesome," she winked.

Carver took his place in the last remaining chair at their table. "And what brings you to Hangman's. Another fight with your very accommodating uncle?" asked Anders. Carver had been coming there every other day for the past three weeks.

He looked down at the table. "Actually, I said something very ungentlemanly to my mother. She's upset and I don't have the guts to apologize."

Isabella and Anders looked at each other. They knew about the mounting tension in the Hawke family with one sibling dead and their only earning member missing. Carver's temper had got the better of him. They spent the next half hour enquiring about Carver's problem and gave him a few suggestions.

Two or three drinks later, Anders raised the topic that was foremost on his mind, "Um… Carver, have you tried searching for another job?"Anders knew about Carver's myriad, failed trials at joining the guard.

"Yes,' said Carver. "I have decide to become a templar."

Both his companions did a double take. Isabella didn't know what to say but Anders was worried. "Carver... a templar."

"I know all your views on templars Anders, but its the only other venture that I am seriously considering. I need to take care of my mother. We have no idea when big brother is returning and there is no incoming cash flow in the house. Hope is the only thing we're sustaining on. Besides, Issac wouldn't mind."

Anders sighed. Issac and he could never see eye to eye on the mages versus templar issue. He knew that Carver wanted to please his big brother in every way he could, but still, this was shocking to him.

Carver got up. "I have to leave." he said and walked towards the pub's door, turning the handle and setting himself out into the cold, dark streets of Lowtown.


	2. A much awaited return

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and I do not stand to profit from it.**

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><p>Chapter 2: A much awaited return<p>

The next day found Carver Hawke in Kirkwall's Gallows searching for the Templar hall. Unlike Lowtown and Darktown, there were very few people who knew him here. It was very early in the morning and the place still seemed to be waking up from a long night's slumber. Most of the shops were empty but he found Solivitus, the formari herbalist just setting up shop. Carver decided to greet him.

The merchant was bent over something when he approached. "Good morning, Solivitus," said Carver.

This startled the merchant at first but he quickly looked over his back, smiled when he recognized Carver and then got up and faced him before stifling a yawn. "Ah Carver Hawke," said Solivitus, "yours is a welcome but completely unexpected face over here, so early in the morning."

Carver smiled and answered his indirect question. "I am here to join the Templar Order, Solivitus."

"Oh… that is… unexpected. Is there any news of your brother?"

"Unfortunately, no. It has been six weeks and we're still waiting."

"That is sad. You and your brother are such fine, young fellows. It is sad to see your family in such a state. That ironbark you got for me is quite exceptional. Ever since you found it, the orders have been flowing in. In fact, this very morning a renowned customer from Orlais will be coming to see my goods crafted from the pure ironbark. That's why I am setting up shop early. I can never thank you enough for finding it for me, Carver."

"Yes, you're welcome, Solivitus. Listen, I need directions to the Templar hall."

"Yes, of course, young Carver."

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><p>With Solivitus's directions and a little help from the other residents of Kirkwall Gallows, Carver found himself standing before the massive gates to the Templar hall. After speaking to the gatekeeper, he was allowed to enter and taken directly to the Knight Lieutenant's office.<p>

The Lieutenant was seated behind a wooden desk going over a stack of papers in his hand. When Carver entered, he gestured for the younger man to sit down. After a brief introduction and stating his purpose, Carver waited for him to respond. "My name is Knight Lieutenant Thomas, the name you will address me by once you are recruited into our Order. That of course is yet to be seen and will depend entirely on your performance as a trainee."

He gave Carver a piercing stare before continuing, "Hawke, the name seems… familiar. I do not recall where I have heard it before but that is not too important now. For now, I want you to go and meet the Knight Corporal whose office is just opposite mine. He will give you a formal introduction about the Templar Order, confirm your willingness to join us and also enquire about your basic details including your family background. Once everything is found to be in order, your training will begin. There is a lot of work to be done, Carver Hawke, now march off quickly."

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><p>It was evening in Gamlen's house in Lowtown and Leandra Hawke was debating over, whether or not to prepare dinner. She didn't expect Gamlen to come before midnight and decided to leave a portion of whatever she made in the larder for him. He could eat it whenever he felt wanted to at night and it was the least she could do. Especially after the way he always commented on her and her sons, 'free-loading in his house."<p>

Oh where is Carver, she thought, I should have spoken to him last night. He is a rough child but never one to lose his temper that way. His elder brother's absence is affecting him adversely. I have to speak to him.

At that moment, the door creaked open and Carver Hawke stumbled in. "Mother, I have to talk to you."

Leandra's face brightened instantly. "So do I son. Oh, but you look so rough. Do wash your face and hands first. I'm making some stew. It will be ready in a few minutes, piping hot, the way you love and will refresh you in no time."

Carver did as his mother asked and half an hour later, seated at the dining table with his mother's promised, piping-hot stew before him, he felt relaxed, for the first time in months. He took a spoonful of the stew. Hot, but not hot enough to sear his tongue whenever Bethany made it. At the thought of Bethany, the delicious taste of the stew suddenly evaporated from his tongue. The memory of his dead sister brought a sharp pang of sadness.

She had been so unlike him and Issac. Lady-like in her manners and temperament, having been brought up much more strictly by looking to imitate mother in some way. By the time Bethany was fifteen the girl had become a perfect replica of her mother, in looks as well as behavior.

The only thing she had never managed to do was cook the way mother did. Something or the other always went wrong. Their father always praised whatever she made and gobbled up whatever she put before him. But, he and Issac where always teasing her about it.

Ferelden winters being extremely frigid, Fereldan women were excellent in making hot stews and soups. Bethany always managed to burn her's. Her elder brothers could never get enough of teasing her about it. But the gentle, determined girl would never let them get to her and always insisted on making the stew, every time during dinner. Such was his sister, smart and persistent. How he missed her.

Leandra watched her son's tense face and the way he suddenly he put down his spoon. "Oh Carver, is something wrong. Is the soup too hot?"

"No mother."

"There's something wrong with the taste then. I know I have never had the time to make it ever since we arrived in Kirkwall and…"

"The soup is wonderful mother. Just like always. It brought back an old memory, that's all."

"Oh. Listen, about what happened yesterday..."

"Mother, before you say anything. I am truly and regretfully sorry for my conduct. Please forgive me."

Leandra's eyes watered up. "You don't need to ask for forgiveness son. We won't discuss that topic anymore. Tell me, where were you the whole day? Did you meet your friends? How are they?"

"Mother, I… I have decided to join the Templars, I was at the Gallows today and…"

He stopped on seeing the look of horror on his mother's face. "The Templars," cried Leandra Hawke, "You're the only child I have left, Carver, once you join the Templars, you will…"

"Yes mother, I will be away from home, undergoing my training. Once that is over, my duties will keep me busy and I won't be able to visit you. But, but I'll write often. Keeping you informed about every single day, I'll…"

Leandra knew there was no point in arguing. She had to prepare herself for a life of loneliness. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. The day she had met Malcom, she knew he was the man she was going to marry. He had promised her a life of adventure and happiness. Three beautiful kids later, her life was complete. She had wanted nothing more. And now, everyone she loved was being taken away from her, one by one.

There was simply, nothing she could do.

"Do as you want son," she said and left the room.

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><p>The Kirkwall sunlight felt warm on his face. He welcomed the warmth, basked in it. Embraced it like an old friend. After seven weeks of wandering in the cold, dark deep roads, a man could give up being in the dark altogether. Such was the agony he had endured.<p>

"What do you say now, Hawke. Shall we shake the pants off everyone with our surprise return?"

They were all standing in Hightown, outside the entrance to the Deep roads, in the Merchant's guild square.

Issac Hawke, at 6.5 feet always found it difficult to communicate with his dwarf-friend. He looked over at Varric and said, "You bet. We're rich enough to throw our own, big welcoming party. I can't wait to see the look on Uncle Gamlen's face when I walk into Lowtown with all this gold.

"I, for one don't want any party. I'm simply going to go home, have a long hot bath and sleep off this seven week nightmare till I no longer remember it," mumbled Aveline whose bright red hair had turned the colour of rust and become speckled with dust and dirt, like the rest of her companions.

"Very wise Aveline," agreed Issac Hawke. "That is something I too shall do, the moment I get home. But an idea occurs to me. Since we shall both be doing the same thing at the same time, doing it together might make it more exciting, don't you think."

Aveline gave a halting laugh. "Seven weeks without seeing a pretty young thing seems to have made your head groggy, Hawke."

Issac simply laughed. "A beautiful, strong woman like you is ten times worth hooking up with than a pretty young thing, my lovely Aveline.

Aveline still couldn't comprehend what a handsome young man like Issac, who had the female population, falling all over the place for him would want to flirt with her. He was relentless and although she enjoyed the light-hearted banter and charm-laced compliments, she didn't like the suggestive talk. He was a player through and through, able to effortlessly gain every maiden's heart from a three year old toddler to a snobby-nosed, old noblewoman.

"If you want to share your bath with someone, Hawke, I'm sure there's a feisty young pirate somewhere here in Kirkwall, who would give away her arms and legs for you to do so. Although, I'm not sure how you two would enjoy bathing together without her arms and legs to, ahem, pleasure you."

This was said by none other than Fenris. Aveline laughed, Varric gave a loud chuckle and Issac just frowned.

"Seems like Hawke's head isn't the only head that has become groggy here," said Varric, still recovering from the shock of Fenris having cracked a joke and an adult one at that. He still couldn't believe it. If seven weeks of wandering, fighting and scavenging through ancient, dark tunnels could do this to Fenris, perhaps they should send him back for another year.

Aveline was still smiling and Varric was pondering over how he could incorporate this incident into another one of his regaling tales when Issac cleared his throat and said, "So let's all go home and finish our home chores. We'll meet tomorrow at the Hangman's to discuss our future plans. I'll inform the rest of our party members. Be prepared for a surprise reunion and several questions. We have a lot of work to do."

After a few more minutes of discussion, they all left. Issac quickly made his way towards Lowtown, his dirty robes and filthy appearance attracting the stares of quite a few passersby.

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><p>AN: Well that was another chapter down. What do you think about Issac Hawke? Of course, that was a very brief snippet but the rest of the story is all about him. Please review this and read the next chapter which I'll post within the next three days. It will be mostly about everyone's reactions to Hawke's return, and what happens after the three year time skip.

There will also be a little something for romance enthusiasts in the next chapter. I have decided to create a love-hate relationship between Isabella and Hawke. What do you think? Please tell me in your review.


	3. Reminiscences

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and I do not stand to profit from it.**

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><p>AN: Sorry for the delayed update. I'm having my exams and so it will be difficult for me to update till mid-April when I promise you that I will put my sweat and grind into this story. Anyway, enjoy. This chapter doesn't contain everything that was promised in the last. Sorry for that. But it will definitely be in the next chapter

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><p>Chapter 3: Reminiscences<p>

Gamlen Amell's house:

"You're sure about this Carver?"

"Yes mother. I have had an entire week to think and the more I do, the more I feel that my place is among the Templars," said Carver Hawke looking into his mother's sorrowful eyes.

"All right," said Leandra, "I will miss you son, every single day."

"So will I, mother."

"Am I interrupting something?"

Both Leandra and Carver turned around to see a disheveled Gamlen standing in the doorway. The former stiffened. "Gamlen, you're drunk again and were you last night."

Her brother simply smiled. "At a place where your son should be, now that he will be joining the Templars. Which reminds me, Carver how much will you be earning. Will it be enough to sustain your mother in some shady Lowtown hovel?"

"You're _not_ throwing us out Gamlen."

"Why not? There are no more earning members in this house. Why should I have to put up with you Leandra?"

"Oh no, Gamlen. This house has been bought from the money of the Amell estate. I have a right over it as much as you do."

"That won't stop me."

"Mother," Carver intervened. Placing an arm over his mother's shoulder, he said, "He's right. I'll find some temporary accommodation for you. There's no need for you to live in such…" he looked at Gamlen, "…indignity. The Templars know of our misfortunes. They have given me some money. It will be enough for a month. By then I'll have completed my recruitment and will have a higher post and salary within the order. I'll find a better place for you then."

Leandra could only cry. How had her life been reduced to such a miserable one? She had only one child left and no one turn to even for her most basic needs. She, Leandra of the Amell's of Hightown.

She couldn't take it anymore, she shouted, "Get out right now, Gamlen. You're drunk and you reek."

"Cheap liquor is the only thing uncle Gamlen can afford mother and he wears it like a perfume. Do not begrudge him for it. His evening companions at the Blooming Rose certainly don't."

Gamlen was certainly drunk that morning but not so drunk as to not recognize his eldest nephew when he walked in through the door. His mouth dropped opened and having already lost control over most of his senses, the old man stumbled back and fell. He didn't manage to hit the ground however as Isaac's deft hands managed to quickly catch his uncle. He knew it would take some time for him to recover from the shock and decided to lay him on a nearby cot. A few minutes later, they began to hear the deep snores.

"Well, that's one problem taken care of for the moment," said Isaac Hawke as he turned around to face the remaining members of his family.

Neither Issac nor Carver could remember the last time the latter had cried. Perhaps it was when he had been kicked and beaten up by some of the boys in Lothering and had to be carried home by his elder brother. Or maybe the time when he had been temporarily removed from the village school for a mistake he did not commit. His big brother had again come to his rescue then. He had always been way too proud to shed a tear in front of his older brother.

But today, he couldn't stop the tears from flowing. "Isaac," he gave a huge sigh. "We thought you would never come back, we thought…" He noticed the keen interest with which his brother was looking at his templar robes. "I joined the Order. Earlier, I couldn't think of anything else to do but now I feel that my place is right there among them as a servant of the Maker."

Leandra, who had all this time been speechless walked across the room and wrapped her eldest in a huge, tear-filled hug. Isaac welcomed his mother's soft embrace. He held her tightly as she sobbed against his shoulder. Emotion overwhelmed him. He never thought he would cry again after Bethany died. But right now, the tears were of happiness.

Now, with the new found money, all their troubles would be over.

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><p>Kirkwall's Docks (Day)<p>

Amidst the chaos of ships docking in and out of the harbor a small, shrill voice could be heard over the deep-throated sailors' banter. "Isabela, Isabela, have you heard the good news?"

The said pirate turned around and took in the small, lithe figure of Merrill as she came running towards her. The girl's face was practically glowing and her eyes were sparkling like emeralds. Isabela marveled at the small things that her little elf friend could find delight in. Maybe she grew another perfect patch of roses or found another new, remarkable friend in the dreary alienage. Things that the girl always rushed over excitedly to tell her pirate-friend.

"Smuggling has finally been made legal in the Free Marches," joked Isabela, unable to hide the laughter in her voice.

"No, no, you won't believe it Isabella," said Merrill trying to catch her breath.

"What?"

"Isaac and the other three have finally returned from the deep roads."

Everything suddenly seemed to have stopped for her. The commotion around her went unheard. All she could see was Merrill and her radiant face.

She stood speechless for a few seconds. "When? Today? How did you find out?

"Oh just this morning. Varric came over to the alienage, all spotted and muddy and told me the news. He couldn't find you at the Hangman's and so told me to inform you and Anders immediately. He said he had to tell us quickly because he knew Fenris and Aveline wouldn't and Hawke had to return to his family. I told him to stay but he of course had to go back to his room and rest.

All of these hit Isabela like a whirlwind. Isaac was back, here in Kirkwall, with his family. "Should we… should we go… and meet them?"

"Oh no. Varric said that Isaac has ordered everyone to rest for the day. He said they have brought lots of gold from the Deep roads and their expedition was a huge success. He didn't tell me about the delay but we have all been called tomorrow at Hangman's in the evening. I guess we can ask our questions then."

"Okay."

"Well, I better go now I still have to tell Anders."

"Of course."

Merrill was about to run off to Darktown when she noticed the sudden despair in Isabela's composure. "Is something the matter?"

"What? Oh no. I just take a long time to recover from… surprises."

"Oh, okay."

Isabela watched the retreating figure of Merrill with a mixture of joy and sadness. Her first instinct was to rush over and see whether or not Isaac had actually come back with her own eyes. She would believe it only when she saw him. She…

"Hey Isabela, come over and tell me where these barrels should go. There's another huge cargo coming in from Orlais today and then another from the Anderfels. We have to get moving and fast." It was the nasal voice of Jarven, one of her deckhands.

"Not today, Jarven. Tell the captain I can't help. I'm taking the rest of the day off."

Jarven nearly dropped the package he was carrying.

Normally, he didn't even have to tell Isabela to give him any orders. Unless, she was hanging out with that mage and his other companions, Isabela was always there at the docks from morning to evening, shouting out orders to her crew. They all respected and admired her. She was the best quartermaster they had had and in the evenings she would regale them with her adventure stories on the high seas.

It must be something to do with the mage, he thought and went back to his work.

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><p>Hangman's pub:<p>

She knocked on the door two times. No response. She rapped it loudly again. Still, no response. She waited for a few seconds and this time, rapped it even louder, shouting, "Varric, open up, it's me, Isabella."

A few minutes of impatient waiting later, she could hear some noise on the other side of the door. Finally it opened and out came a very haggard looking Varric Tethras.

"Wow Varric," she said "you've grown a golden beard."

The dwarf grunted. "Yes, Isabela, I have grown a golden beard. Try as I might, I couldn't find any shaving cream in the Deep Roads."

"And you haven't lost your sense of humor either. Next time, remember to take some with you"

"Didn't Daisy give you the message?"

"She did, Varric but I couldn't believe it. I had to see you for myself. Is Isaac okay?"

The dwarf smiled. "Ah, finally the real reason you woke me up. Yes, your mage lover is okay."

"Mage-lover, I thought he was a Templar-lover."

"Ha ha, yes, unfortunately so for Anders. What I meant was, your most favorite mage in Kirkwall is perfectly safe and sound, if only a little less handsome than usual. Now, if you don't mind, I'll talk to you when I'm awake," he said and closed the door.

Isabela sighed. She too went to her own room. She couldn't go visit Isaac now. He would be having a warm reunion with his family. Not that she would be welcome anyway. His mother never approved of her, always giving her stern glances every time she was around.

She had even heard the old woman tell her son quite a few times, "Stay away from that girl Isaac; she seems like nothing but a whore. I understand if you need her for your missions but don't get too involved with her."

Isabela didn't give two figs about what that prudish old woman thought about her but what had cut at her heart was that all those times, Isaac had said 'yes' and nodded with his mother. She knew he was his mother's son and always agreed with what she said. But she couldn't believe that the charming, young Isaac Hawke, who flirted with any girl given the opportunity and was a regular patron of the 'Blooming Rose' brothel, could think of her as a 'whore'.

She sighed again and looked about her room. As opposed to her personality, Isabela liked to keep everything in perfect order, just like she did on her ship. The few clothes that she had were arranged neatly in her closet. The maximum part of it was taken over by the jewelry and other exotic stuff she had found on all her trips. Merrill, of course loved the jewelry but even Aveline hadn't managed to control her childish glee the first time she saw them. She, along with Isabela and Merrill had spent many hours of their free time in Isabela's room going through the exotic stuff and playing dress-up. Who had thought that the priggish and conservative Aveline had a girlish side to her as well? Nothing beats a female bonding experience, thought Isabela.

She never had had any actual female friends, before she came here in Kirkwall. The only women she had shared a close relationship were her lovers and even they stayed with her for only one reason (just like all the men).

Isabela had never known her mother, or her father. Her earliest childhood memories were about being beaten up each night by her slavers in Rivain and then sent to bed hungry. They were a group who preyed on young children, kidnapped them and made them beg and do menial jobs around Rivain and finally sold them when they entered their teenage.

She had finally escaped her prison encampment one night by convincing her fellow prisoners to light their oppressor's headquarters with fire. She recalled that incident with fondness and a smile appeared on her face as the memory came to her.

They had all been put to bed an hour ago by the sole, female slaver in their camp. Along with Isabela, there were thirteen other kids, from ages between five to ten. There was only one other twelve-year old but he shared a room along with the other slavers. All the kids were scrawny and undernourished and were lying on their bunk beds in torn, white night-clothes. Night-clothes meant only a single garment for each child. Oversized, dirty, white undershirts that had probably belonged to the other slavers earlier.

It was a sultry, hot night and Isabela's back still hurt from the heavy packages she had been made to carry earlier. She had dropped them twice or thrice and had had to receive three strong whip-lashings later in the day, which was the mildest punishment at camp. The wounds from them only aggravated her pain and it prevented her from falling asleep.

Sleep was the only joy that the hapless little children knew ever since they had entered the slaver camp. It was the only peaceful place they could escape to from the daily horrors that they suffered. They therefore tried to sleep the moment they hit the bed, some doing so instantly from the exhaustion. Isabela however, couldn't manage to that night and having no good memories, there were only the bad memories that haunted her. Two hours had passed since she had been sent to bed and if she didn't manage to get enough sleep in the next four hours, she would receive much more severe punishments from her oppressors for falling asleep during the day.

For the first time in her life, Isabela started crying. She had always been inherently strong and never once in the five years that she had been in this slaver camp had she cried. She had borne all their cruelty with a silent sadness and got through each day by pushing away all the sad thoughts that descended on her mind. She had trained her mind, not to think or remember anything beyond the commands she was given by her slavers. After two and a half years at the slaver camp, she had become a human being devoid of emotions, just a machine that did whatever it was instructed to.

But that night, she couldn't bear it anymore. As the current Isabela reminisced about her childhood, she desperately tried to recall what it was about that particular night, as opposed to any of the others when she had been in a similar, if not much more tragic predicament.

She was on the lower most bunk of a three-tier bunk-bed. The one above her was occupied by a perpetually sniveling eight year old boy (who was right now, thankfully asleep). The one above that was occupied by her best friend, Alina. She was ten years old, the same age as Isabela and had been brought to the camp two years after the former. She was from foreign shores, Isabela had guessed, as her very pale skin, coupled with straight blond hair and ice blue eyes definitely wasn't a Rivaini trait. It was only a year later when she came upon the knowledge that Alina was from Ferelden.

As little Isabela lay in her bed, silently trying to brush her tears away, a white figure suddenly jumped from top of the bunk bed. A few seconds later, Alina's ice-blue eyes were staring at her. They were in perfect contrast with her now tanned face and the darkness that surrounded it. "Isabela," she said, "I am thirsty. We have to get some water for the kitchen."

The slavers never kept water in the children's room. The kids therefore, had to sneak up to the kitchen, located in the slaver's mansion, twenty feet away from the shack they were housed in. Apart from their room with the bunk beds, the shack only had a bathroom and a toilet which had to be cleaned by the children themselves.

Alina was still staring at Isabela. It was then that she noticed that her friend had been crying. "Isabela, what's wrong? Are you still in pain from the punishment you received today? It will be okay. Do you want some water?"

Isabela looked at the other girl and burst into tears. "Alina, I… I can't take it anymore. Will this never end? Tomorrow, we'll be woken up to do the same things that we did today and the next day will be the same and the next and the next. Will it never end?"

Alina looked at her best friend sorrowfully, "Of course it will, Isabela. You know that in a few more years, when we become taller and a little bigger they will send us away, just like they did to those other, bigger kids before us."

Alina was right. Isabela had seen many more kids leave the camp. Once they were old enough, they would be allowed to sleep in the slavers' cottage and guard over the smaller children. Then, six or seven months later, they would finally be sent away to some undisclosed place. That's what Isabela used to think until six months earlier, she had overheard a discussion among the slavers and some guests

It was two hours to their bed time and all the children had been instructed to clean the cottage and other areas of the camp as was the routine every day. Isabela was sweeping the cottage floor when she heard her name being called out. It was Garohn, the nastiest among the seven slavers at their camp. She gulped. She hoped that she hadn't done anything wrong. Garohn was a pure sadist and usually gave the harshest and cruelest punishments to the girls.

Today however, he seemed preoccupied with something and didn't pass any insidious comment when he saw her. "Go to the kitchen and help Loren, we have guests," was all he said and walked away.

Isabela immediately complied. When she got to the kitchen, the female slaver, Loren was busy cooking something that smelled delicious. When she saw the little girl, she pointed to the kitchen counter and said, "I want you to take all those dishes one by one to the downstairs hall and _carefully _lay them on the table. If you drop them or make another one of your clumsy mistakes, I promise you that I and Garohn will punish you severely."

Isabela gulped. She knew she had to be very careful. There were about ten dishes on the counter each filled with a variety of fine-looking delicacies that she had never seen before. She picked up a silver tureen and started on her way to the hall.

The slavers lived in a big mansion that had once belonged to a wealthy merchant's son. It was said that he had run away from the house after falling madly in love with a peasant girl and being denied permission by his father to marry her. No one knew what became of the father or the servants but the house was abandoned and then the slavers came upon it and made it their headquarters. They kept most of the house intact, only using the bedrooms to sleep and carried out most of their covert activities in the huge grounds of the mansion which they had converted into a camp.

The mansion's large hall and study were places that the kids hardly got to see unless they were sent to run some errands there. As Isabela walked down the marble steps that led to the hall, she took in all the luxury surrounding her. The chandelier on top of the steps was brightly lit and filled the room with a delightful radiance. Each reflecting object in the room sparkled under the chandelier's glory and added to the rich ambience. A few feet away from marble the steps, a dining table was set and the five people that currently occupied it were engaged in a loud discussion.

When Isabela got to the bottom of the steps, she recognized Darien, the slaver leader who was dressed in his best clothes. The others, Isabela didn't recognize. They were all men and were dressed much better than Darien or anyone else she had seen in her entire life. Each of the five men had a wine glass and empty plates, along with forks and knives before them on the table. They were all talking about something that was audible but undecipherable to Isabela.

At the head of the table was an elderly gentleman who seemed at least twenty years older than Darien, who was seated to his right. The other three occupants of the table were much younger, perhaps below thirty. They all looked at Isabela when she came to the table and very carefully set the soup tureen. In their eyes, there was an emotion that she could not comprehend but it nevertheless instinctively scared her.

After she had laid the tureen on the table did the elderly gentleman and Darien take notice of her. "Ah, I see dinner is now being served," said Darien. He turned to his fellow dinner companions and said, "This is Isabela, she's ten years old and will bring all the dishes for us. Loren will bring the last dish and start serving soon after."

Isabela didn't linger long and quickly ran to bring down the rest of the dishes. She was sent to bed after she was finished but the things that she had heard that evening, kept her awake for the rest of the night. She didn't share it with anyone else but now as she looked at her best friend, she knew she had to tell her about the slavers' intentions.

"Alina," said Isabela, "it's not as simple as you think. They just don't release us or send us away. They have something much more horrible than this planned for us later on.

Alina just looked at her best friend innocently. "What do you mean Isabela? Why just the other day I heard Timothy (the oldest kid who now lived in the slavers' mansion and helped guard over the other kids) say to little Johnny that the slavers are going to release him in six months. Won't than happen with us too? You know that there are no kids in this camp who are over thirteen."

"No, Alina. You are right about them sending us away once we're older but not to be released but to other, crueller men. I saw some of them six months ago. They were having dinner at the mansion and they were telling Darien about some of the plans they had for us once he sold us to them."

Alina now looked at her incredulously. "What plans? Whom are we going to be sold to?"

Isabela sat silently for a moment, searching for the right words. "Once we are thirteen, we will be sold to old and young men to perform 'special' tasks for them."

Alina still hadn't understood. "What special tasks? Just like the cooking and cleaning that the make us do here or the begging?"

"Not those kind of tasks Alina. They said that it is difficult to get money from older children begging as most people show sympathy only to younger children. I don't know if they meant cooking or cleaning but while I was carrying the dishes, some of the men were staring at me in a very creepy way. The same way Garohn and that other slaver Alain do, at times."

Alina was now horrified. "Isabela, why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"I didn't want to scare you Alina. I also didn't want to think of it as true and I can't forget it."

Alina started sobbing now. "Oh Isabela, there is something that I have to tell you too. I didn't want to, but last week, when all of you were sent to work and I was sick, something terrible had happened to me."

Isabela was now concerned, she moved to the left of the bed and made Alina sit next to her. She placed a timy hand on Alina's shoulder and did her best to comfort the sobbing girl. "What happened, Alina? It's okay. You can tell me. Did they beat you for falling sick?"

"No."

"Then what did they do. Did they say something very bad to you? Just forget it."

Alina took a deep breath and started her tale, "No. I had told Loren that I wasn't feeling well in the morning but she just called me a lazy urchin and told me to take the day off and lie in bed. While you were all gone, I followed her advice and just lay in bed, a little hot from the fever. Sometime later, Garohn and Alain entered the shack and came towards me I thought that they had been sent to punish me but they didn't have a whip or anything to beat me with. I thought that perhaps Loren had told them I was sick and asked them to just beat me gently with their hands," she laughed, smiling wryly at her own sarcasm."

"But no such thing," she continued. "They simply came to the bed and put their hands on my chest and started rubbing it. I was only in my night-clothes Alain had placed a hand on mouth but I was too scared to scream. I looked at them with frightened eyes but they just stared back evilly. Garohn then put a hand under my shirt and placed it between my legs and started poking down there and…" she could continue no more and the tears started rolling down her cheeks.

Isabela was horrified. They had done this to her! Sure they were cruel and beat the children and stared at them creepily but they could do even this! "But… but they didn't go any further than that," said Alina. "Garohn just kept asking if I felt good and if I wanted him to do more. I could only look at him and cry so he stopped, removed his hands and frowned. Alain then said to him that I was too young and that they would have to wait. Garohn told that he hoped the wait won't be too long as I was developing fast. Then they left."

Isabela was too shocked to say anything and for ten minutes, the girls just sat there silently, each in her own horror-fantasy.

Alina spoke again, "All I kept thinking was that we would be released in two and a half years time. I didn't see the need to tell anyone about it then. It was too... too embarrassing."

Isabela, not breaking away her solemn gaze from the ground said, "We have to escape from here Alina. Right now."

* * *

><p>AN: I'm so sorry for getting carried away with Isabela's back story. I hope you don't mind. It will be completed in the next chapter where Isabela finally gets to meet Hawke.


	4. What! You two are related?

****Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and I do not stand to profit from it.****

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><p>AN: Sorry for taking so long to post this. Especially sorry to 'thevaaner' for whom I am writing this story. I hope you didn't think that I had given up. Updates will definitely be more regular from now on.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: What! You two are related?<p>

Isabela's flashback:

After hearing what her friend had to say, Isabela suddenly made the impulsive decision to run away from their slave camp.

Alina just looked at her and said, "Are you all right Isabela? How will we do that? What do we know beyond this place? Even if we somehow manage to get away from here, where do you think we are going to go?"

"I don't have the answers to your questions Alina, but I know that if we don't run away from here soon enough, we'll never escape from slavery again. I don't want to be a slave all my life. From what you just told me now, I feel that if we stay here any longer, our lives will be more miserable than what they are right now and we'll be spending them forever doing things for others without looking out for our own happiness. I don't know what I will do with the rest of my life. But it definitely isn't going to be that. I want to get out of here. Right now."

Isabela then took a deep breath. It was the longest and most passionate thing she had said in her whole life.

The other girl considered all of this for a long time and then said, "Ok, how shall we do this?"

Isabela smiled; something that any child in the encampment hardly ever did. But today, she was filled with an optimism that wouldn't be quelled so easily. It made her forget her pain and urged her to do something, something she had never had the guts to do in her whole life.

Isabela got up from the bed and said, "First, we shall go to the kitchen and get your drink of water. Timothy will probably be asleep now but even if he notices us, we'll tell him that we are just there to drink. Come on. We'll make some plan along the way."

Alina, who had forgotten that she was thirsty by now, got up too and followed Isabela to the shack's door. They opened it very carefully so as not to disturb the other sleeping kids and set out for the mansion which was about a quarter of a mile away.

They made their way through the dark, unkempt green grass of the mansion grounds. It was the same path that they followed every day. A fountain, some wild, non-uniform shrubbery and dried, crumbling rose hedges all of which belonged to a bygone era dotted the mansion grounds. They would never know that this had once been a place filled with beauty and laughter. To them, it was just a place of sadness and torture.

Each child had several bad memories associated with different parts of the place. Walking through the grounds only reminded them of being forced to sit in the scorching, afternoon sun for hours and being beaten black and blue later, as a punishment. The beautiful fountain in the centre of the grounds was where the slavers would throw in the disobedient children, plunging them in the cold water and holding their tiny heads down until they became breathless.

They would then be allowed to pull their heads out, take in a few great gulps of air, only to be pushed back down again and again until the child finally fainted from the shock. It was Garohn's favorite punishment, to be given only when one of the children made a terribly big mistake. He could never resist doing it every once in a while though, even when someone didn't make a mistake. "I love watching the fear of death in your eyes," he would tell them. Isabela shuddered. He had only done it to her once when she was caught sneaking in the kitchen in search of food. It wasn't a big mistake and none of the other slavers would have given her such a punishment for it. By courtesy of her rotten luck, she had been caught by him when he happened to be in one of his sadistic moods. He had smiled upon seeing her and then…

Isabela gulped. She did not want to think about that now. Her heart was beating very fast and she was finding it difficult to breathe as they ran faster and faster towards the slaver mansion. Both she and Alina were barefooted and the grass below their feet was coarse and dry. Their frail bodies were shivering in the loose, cotton undershirts that adorned them. It was winter in Rivain and although it was always mildly warm and pleasant during the day; the nights were bone-chillingly cold.

Alina, who was a few feet ahead of Isabela stopped suddenly. Isabela stopped too; grateful for the break. Their shoulders drooping, they placed their hands on their knees and started heaving, breathless from the run. After a few moments, Alina slowly stood up straight and turned around to face Isabela. Her face looked stricken. She said, "Isabela, I don't think I can do this."

Isabela was tired and still heaving. She didn't say anything but just stared at her friend as she continued to gasp and heave. It took her another couple of seconds and then she too regained her breath. She looked at Alina and said. "You're right. I am tired Alina. My back is starting to hurt again. But we're already more than half-way there so let's just get your drink of water and go back. I can't do this either."

Alina nodded and the two again set of towards the mansion. Their pace was much slower and lacking in the enthusiasm and excitement that it had had earlier. Isabela was disappointed. Only twenty minutes before she had been happy and that too for the first time in weeks. It wasn't a feeling that she had experienced very frequently in her life but the few times when she had, it had felt wonderful. But it would also be short-lived. Always. Just like now.

She felt dull, sad and much more tired than she had ever been. Only a short while ago, she had tasted the dream of freedom only to be accosted now by the gloom of reality. Yet, she silently followed the blonde girl in front of her. It seemed to take forever but finally, the grey-brick building of the mansion came into view. They had reached the main gate. It was only a foot taller than the girls and they never had any difficulty opening it. Very quietly, they walked up the steps to one of the side-doors which was closest to the kitchen.

There was no one inside and after going through two narrow corridors and the main hall, they were finally in the kitchen. It was a small room, compared to the rest of the house and it also had a lot of furniture making it seem even more cramped. There was a large wooden table, about fifteen into five feet in the centre of the room. It occupied almost half of the room's space along with the eight wooden chairs that surrounded it. There were two larders, one of which was always empty at night. The other was filled with food and venison but always kept locked. Both were in a corner of the room, adjacent to each other and opposite the kitchen door.

Isabela went to the table and pulled out one of the chairs. They were still a little higher for her so she had to place her hands on the seat and propel herself up to be seated. She did so in a few seconds and comfortably placed her hands on the table's top leaving her legs dangling at the bottom. As she watched Alina make way to the kitchen counter and try to pour water from the large jug into one of the small pitchers, her mind went back to what she had been thinking less than an hour before.

Alina, having finally managed to fill two pitchers with enough water, silently placed the jug away. She took both of the pitchers and carried them to the table. She placed one of them before Isabela and drank her fill from the other one.

All the while, Isabela thought about whether there was still a chance that they could escape. Her enthusiasm was dampened, but the resolve remained. But she was so tired and it was so much cold outside. No, she thought. Not today. We can escape. But it will have to be carefully planned.

She then realized how absurd her idea was. Two half-dressed, frail girls, both ten years of age, running out into the dead of the night with no idea where to go and not even a single bronze piece in their pockets. They had no food with them either. The larder was locked and it was a large deadbolt. It was way too heavy for the kids to open even if they had the key. It was impossible to steal anything. With no food and money, how far could they even hope to get?

At the most, they could escape from this place and run, maybe half a mile before the cold and fatigue got to them and forced them to stop and rest somewhere or simply faint on the road. Their slave camp was located in a very isolated place and there were very few buildings in the vicinity. She knew that they wouldn't be welcome there.

"Isabela. What are you thinking about so much?"

Isabela broke away from her thoughts and looked at Alina. The girl was smiling at her. "Come on. I finished my drink and you haven't even touched yours. You are thirsty, aren't you? If you don't want it, give it to me quickly. I'll dump the water and place everything just as it was earlier. No one should know we were here at this time. We have to hurry back."

"No. I am thirsty," she said, realizing now that she was. She drank it all up, wiped her mouth and handed the pitcher to Alina.

After a few minutes, both the girls got up and were almost near the kitchen door when to their surprise, it opened by itself. There was no one on the other side. A chill went through Isabela. How did that happen? she thought. For a few seconds, both the girls just stood there staring at open door and the unobstructed view of the main hall that it offered.

Then suddenly, out of now nowhere, a scrawny, brown-haired boy, about five inches taller than them jumped in to the scene and blocked their view. There was a mischievous sparkle in his brown eyes. "Caught you!" he shouted.

"Timothy!" said a panicked Alina, looking at the boy. Her eyes were filled with fear. "You aren't going to tell on us, are you?"

Isabela remained silent. Timothy was also a slave but he had a room here in the slaver mansion. He was the oldest among the kids and was assigned to keep guard over them. He was also a very annoying tattle-tale, never relinquishing the opportunity to get anyone punished."

"Ohhh yes I am," he said. "You girls will follow me right now to our slave-master's quarters."

"No, please," pleaded Alina. The punishment for being caught in the mansion at night was six, strong whiplashes. She was already tired and weary from sleeplessness and she wanted so badly to go back to the shack and feel safe; if at least for an hour or so. No, she didn't want those lashes. She could feel tears begin to form at the corner of her eyes. In a few short seconds, they turned into tiny drops and started to slide along her cheeks. Timothy just looked at her and laughed. She felt so pathetic in front of him.

"No, we won't go anywhere with you," screamed Isabela, utterly defiant. Alina and Timothy instantly turned their attention to her. Alina's tears stopped mid-way and Timothy's face had a look of surprise and anger.

"You are not doing this to us Timothy. You were one of us too a few years earlier. You know what it feels like. Why are you helping them?"

"I _was _one of you. Not anymore. Now I am one of them. And among the two…," he began, tucking his wrist under his chin, he pretended that he was giving it some serious thought, "I prefer… them! Ha ha.

"Stop it Isabela. Let's just go and get this over with. You know that this is of no use," pleaded Alina.

Isabela didn't pay any attention to her. She was still locking stares with the boy. "No, we won't go. Do you really think they are going to set you free, Timothy?"

Timothy smiled at her. It was a large, mean smile and it made his thin, pock-marked face much, much more ugly, thought Isabela.

After some time, he said, "Oh I know that Isabela. I know what they do to kids when they get old enough to leave the camp. But that isn't going to happen to me. The slavers have asked me to join them." He paused, giving the two girls, ample time to let it all sink in.

After enjoying their perplexed looks for a few moments, he continued, "And my first job as a brand new slaver is... to administer whip lashings to naughty slaves."

Alina looked at him horrified. No, she thought, that's not possible. He was going to join them. Why he…

"What's this here? I smell mischief and I _love _that smell," said a loud, deep, masculine voice in an all too familiar, mocking and equally cruel tone.

Now it was Isabela's turn to be scared. She turned around to face the scariest slaver she had ever known. Garohn was coming towards them. Even though it was almost three in the morning, he wasn't in night clothes. She had never seen him in anything but his standard, warm colored tunics and tan leggings. Does he even sleep in them, thought Isabela.

Garohn's had a cruel look in his green eyes, as he eyed the two girls. "Who's ready to take a dip in the fountain?" he said, in a sinister tone.

* * *

><p>Every night was party-night at the Hangman's Pub. But tonight, was a celebration. The usually dreary, dimly lit interiors of Lowtown's most famous building had on a very different look tonight. The whole place was brightly lit and cleaned to perfection. There was a glow on everyone's face and a drink in everyone's hands. There was a lot of laughter and chatter. Everyone was happy that the missing four from the Deep road's expedition had returned safe and sound.<p>

Well, mostly they were happy about the riches that they had come across and every shady character in Lowtown, know or unknown to Isaac was here. They had all turned up at the party, to see how they could get a share in the spoils.

_Wow, news travels fast _thought Isaac. The entire place was packed. The owner had to barricade the door to prevent more people from entering. He was happy because of the business that he would be making that night but his concerns for the security of his pub were quickly outweighing that. There were rival gang members, dangerous criminals, members of the Carta and even a few of the nobility with their gold necklaces and diamond cuffs. All were vying to get a piece of the big pie.

Isaac however, was unfazed by all this. It had been weeks since he had had a drink in his hand and he wanted to make the most of the moment. The minute he and Carver had entered the building, they had been ambushed equally, by hugs and questions. Everyone else was already there and they had all been waiting for him. After two hours of questioning and explaining, he was settled comfortably in his chair with his hands placed on the table. It was a round table and Varric and Anders were on either side of him. Fenris was diametrically opposite him and he was seated between Isabela and Carver. Aveline had gotten up a few minutes before and she was chatting with Guardsman Donnic at another table. Merril was seated between Isabela and Varric.

Varric had had just one drink up till now and he looked visibly upset over something. Merril, quick to sense anyone's feelings looked at him and said, "Varric, come on now. You have been morose long enough. Tell us what's upsetting you. Before the dwarf could reply, Isaac spoke.

"We haven't heard any news of Bartrand yet."

Varric, still staring at the table, nodded solemnly. "Bartrand was always… always more of a merchant than an older brother. But, he wasn't really that bad. Sure he always put money first. But that didn't mean that he would betray his family and leave them to die. I don't know what got into him."

"This idol that you found," said Anders, "You said it was made of lyrium?"

"Yes, it seemed to emanate some kind of mysterious energy when I touched it" said Isaac.

"It was unlike anything I had ever seen," said Varric.

"But the moment it went into that dwarf's hands," said Fenris, "something in him changed. That's when he got greedy and abandoned us. Or maybe he was always greedy. I simply cannot tell."

"That lyrium," said Anders, "I have heard of it. It isn't the good kind of magic. It does strange things to people. Many are undocumented. I have read that its effects are dangerous if it falls in the hands of someone who isn't a mage or a templar. It magnifies the negative traits of one's character. Many people are known to have been driven mad by greed and power, once they acquire it."

"Poor Bartrand," said Merrill, sadly.

"I'm so sorry, Varric," said Isabela.

"Now, now, there's no need to be concerned ladies," said Varric, looking up and smiling for the first time that day. "I'll put more pressure on all my sources. We'll find him somehow. Sooner or later."

Everyone at the table smiled politely at Varric. They didn't have the heart to tell him what they thought would happen if he found his brother.

Anders leaned towards Isaac and whispered, "We desperately need to change the subject._"_

Isaac nodded to him.

It was Carver who saved them. "Hey Isaac. What have you decided to do now?"

"Yes," said Isabela even more direct, "Where's all the money?"

Isaac, leaned back in his chair and smiled. His mother had pestered him about the same thing a million times ever since he had come back. That was the very reason Hangman's was so crowded today. Everyone wanted to ask him the same thing. Now, there was silence all around him. Everyone within earshot (which was a lot of people with the pub being so crowded tonight) stopped their conversations and merry-making to stare at him. They were all eager to know. Many of those who had been around him since the start of the evening, had drifted away in the past hour, to either the bar or the other tables. Now, they were all gradually returning.

Everyone had heard Varric's brief version and now knew that a very large amount of gold had been found by them. It was much, much more than they had expected and everyone was dying to know the amount and location of the treasure. All evening, in whispered conversations throughout the room, they all speculated as to where it could be. Surely Isaac hadn't kept all that gold in his uncle's dingy, Lowtown hovel?

Isabela knew that the gold was now in Varric's possession, kept safely away from wary eyes in some secure, hiding place in Kirkwall, that only he knew off. They definitely wouldn't reveal it tonight.

Isaac, who was enjoying the moment, let them all stare at him for a few more minutes. "Mother said that she would petition the viscount tomorrow. She'll definitely be granted an audience. Our new-found fame and fortune will see to that. Within a week or so, I think we'll have our family estate back. It's in a… rather sorry state now," he paused, allowing an expression of disappointment to briefly settle on his features, "But, as soon as we finish the repairs and have it ready, you will all be invited to the house-warming party."

With that, he picked up his beer mug, clinked it with Varric's, shouted a loud, "Cheers," and drank it all up. Carver, Varric and Isabela just looked at him, amusedly.

* * *

><p>If he made a 'Places I hate to visit list, Isaac would definitely include 'The Viscount's Keep', in it. It was always full of snobbish nobles, rude city-guards and over-eager peasants. Even now, as he accompanied his mother along its lush, carpeted hallway, he felt listless. It was the morning after he had had his reunion with all his friends at the Hangman's pub and his head throbbed from an aching hangover.<p>

"Isaac dear, I swear, you are walking like your feet are made of lead. By goodness, do keep up. I feel like you are the one who gave birth to me," said his mother.

Isaac managed a chuckle. "Oh, then please excuse my tardiness mother," he said with sparkling eyes, "you see, childbirth can be very exhausting."

His mother gave him a stern glare and strode up the first flight of steps. Isaac followed her, still bored and in pain from his headache but with a quicker pace.

After five more minutes, they were talking to Seneschal Bran. "I have to see him now," said Leandra, "There has been a very important development."

Seneschal Bran just stood there, giving her a vacant look before starting his routine monologue, "I told you madam; the papers for your estate are already among our very important documents and the Viscount will look through them as soon as he has the time."

"Well," she began, "considering the fact that you have been telling me this for the past twelve weeks, I think the Viscount must have had ample time to look through them."

"No, I assure you madam, he most certainly hasn't had any. With the continued Qunari presence in this city, I'm sure you'll understand that he has much bigger things to look into. Now, if you'll excuse me, I too have other, more important matters to attend to."

Before Leandra could react, the Seneschal had noticed Isaac. He immediately stopped in his tracks, half-way between mother and son. "Hawke, it's surprising you're here so soon, when I… just dispatched the Viscount's letter to your residence, only an hour ago."

Hawke looked at him nonchalantly and said, "Well, I'm equally surprised to learn that the viscount has called upon me… so soon after I safely brought back his son some… should I say two months ago?"

The other man gave an uncomfortable cough at that. "Well you see," he said, nodding towards to Leandra, "as I was just explaining to Miss Amell here, the Viscount is… extremely busy."

Isaac laughed loudly at that and attracted the attention of many others in the massive room. Leandra and Seneschal Bran just folded their hands to their chests and narrowed their eyes at him with matching, stern gazes.

As he slowly suppressed his laughter, Isaac wondered for a moment if the two of them were related through some common crisscrossing in the web of Kirkwall's noble family trees. After a few more moments, he looked at the Seneschal and said, "First of all, '_Miss'_ Amell…? Surely you must know that my mother was married long back. Did she craftily neglect to inform you, or did you not come across it in the thorough background research that your office _'usually' _carries out whenever someone petitions to have their old, Hightown estate returned?"

It was now Leandra's turn to look uncomfortable. So she might have neglected to mention to anyone in the city, her travails in the past two decades ever since she had left Kirkwall. But it wasn't like anyone recognized her now. No one except Gamlen had bothered to ask her even. So she had being stuck to calling herself an 'Amell', whenever it proved convenient.

"Wait, your Mother!" screamed Bran looking back and forth between the two Hawkes.

"Oh yes," said Isaac, still rippling with laughter. "We are related."

"Well then that… certainly complicates matters. If your mother here isn't an Amell anymore, I'm afraid she can no longer lay claim to their estate."

"But, my parents will states that upon their death, the estate is to be passed on to me and my children.

"What? It does?" said Bran, scratching his head.

"Yes, it's there along with the papers that I handed over to you when I came with the '_petition'_," said Leandra, angrily.

Bran just looked at them helplessly. This was certainly a situation that he hadn't planned to encounter. People came to him with trivial issues throughout the day and his office hardly ever bothered to check on each. This was because most of them just turned out to be bogus claims and petitions for unnecessary power.

He opened his mouth to mumble an awkward apology only to be stopped by Isaac.

"And again, you had more important matters to attend to?" said Isaac, again unable, to disguise the laughter from his voice.

"Well, I am very sorry," he finally managed. "I assure you that from now, we will look through your petition with a fine-toothed comb and get back to you within a day. Meanwhile, Hawke, you have been urgently summoned to the Viscount's office." With that, the Seneschal left the duo and took long strides towards his own office, a mere ten feet away.


	5. Sounds Pretty Serious to me

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DRAGON AGE OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. THIS STORY IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY AND I DO NOT STAND TO PROFIT FROM IT**

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><p>Chapter 5: Sounds Pretty Serious to me<p>

"Well, Varric?"

"Well, Rivaini?"

"Where's the gold?"

"Where's the relic?"

"Relic?" asked Isabela, worried. A crease appeared on her deliciously, dusky brow.

"You know; the relic that you stole from the qunari," said Anders, who had appeared suddenly, next to Varric.

"Actually, she stole it from the Orlesians, who were going to return it to the Qunari," said Merrill, who too seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

"You... you are mistaken. What relic? I haven't stolen anything," she said, panicked. Tiny beads of sweat started to form on her face. Her body tensed up and she was starting to feel faint.

"It's the Tome of Koslun, the most sacred scripture of the Qunari," said Fenris in his deep, brooding voice. He had appeared in front of Varric and his eyes seemed to be boring into her soul."

"Rivaini is the reason that the Qunari are here, in Kirkwall," said Varric. "They won't leave without that tome."

"Isabela, Isabela, Isabela," chuckled Isaac, appearing from the back and taking his place next to Fenris. "You, nasty little thief, you. I knew that from the moment I saw you. Where is that relic? In the folds of your deep chest?" he mocked.

Isabela wanted to run away. But all around her was blackness. Excluding her friends, she could see nothing else.

"There she is. We finally found her Castillon," said Hayder. He too had appeared, along with Wall-eyed Sam, Velasco and of course, Castillion.

They all grinned evilly at her. "Let's take her back to Antiva and teach her some of the new tricks that we learned," said Velasco, his eyes leering on Isabela's chest. "You know how she's always… _soooo_ eager to please," he crooned and reached for her breast.

"No," she screamed, lurching back instantly.

"It's that whore," screamed Leandra. "Stay away from my son, you whore. You'll never be good enough for him."

"As if I don't already know that," said Isabela, pitifully. She had given up trying to wonder where everyone was coming from. Still, she wanted to know where she was.

"Where am I?" she asked them. No one said anything. They all looked at her, with eyes that were filled with hate. "Where am I?" she asked again. "What am I doing here?" she cried. They were still staring at her. Just staring, silently, unshaken, unwavering.

"Am I… am I, in a dream?" she said, very quietly, almost to herself. At that moment, everything around her started to swivel. She screamed again and again and again but the swiveling just wouldn't stop. But then suddenly, it did. Everything around was black again. She stayed still for a few moments. But nothing happened. No one was there. There was complete silence.

Then out of nowhere, a ray of light materialized, cutting through the darkness. In a matter of seconds, it started to grow and grow and suddenly there was brightness all around her. She found herself staring at a fancy, hexagonal ceiling. She turned her gaze lower and found herself in a soft, comfortable, four-poster bed with the curtains closed from all sides. This definitely wasn't her bed. But she heaved a sigh of relief. If she had woken up from it, then it definitely must have been a dream after all.

"You're the best fuck I have ever had," said a masculine voice, startling her. She turned around and screamed. Realization dawned and she became more aware of her environment. She found herself to be naked on the bed and a red velvet bed sheet, was barely covering her groin. The masculine voice belonged to none other than 'Serendipity', the transvestite sex-worker, of the Blooming Rose brothel. She/he was sitting right next to her on the bed, completely naked as well.

She screamed again. "But… but I don't even like you. I don't like transvestites. I've had every kind of physical relationship imaginable… but."

"You know, you always had it in for me, baby," he/she, winked.

Before Isabela could react, the curtains parted and in came Aveline, in full, city guard-regalia, with her shield and sword.

"Isabela," she said, "I am here to arrest you on charges of stealing something that has the potential to change the future of Kirkwall."

"What!" said the pirate. "But, wait, how do you_,_ know what I have stolen? I never told you or anyone else who could tell you about it."

"I am the Guard Captain and I know everything that goes on around here in Kirkwall; plus I never really liked you." And with that, the Guardswoman pulled her out of bed and dragged her outside the room. Once outside, she found that she was indeed, in the 'Blooming Rose' and as Aveline dragged her down the front steps to the main hall, they encountered a sea of familiar faces. All her friends were there and they had varying expressions on their faces. Merrill and Anders just looked at her curiously. Fenris looked at her with contempt. Carver looked disappointed. Isaac and Varric were laughing. As Aveline dragged her closer to them, Varric whispered something to Isaac who laughed loudly, never letting his gaze waver from her.

There were many others too. Every sea-farer she knew was there. The other prostitutes of the Blooming Rose too, were eyeing her curiously

Leandra, was there too and as soon as she caught Isabela's eye, she started chanting, "Whore, whore, it's that filthy whore." The rest of the crowd picked up her chant and it quickly grew so much louder that she had to raise her hands up to her ears to shield them. The moment she did so, she found them to be much heavier and upon looking at them, she noticed that they were shackled. She was dressed as well, in her usual attire. But her knives were missing. "Hold on," she said to herself, "I am still in a dream. I have to get up. I have to get out of here.

A sudden, loud roar, broke her away from her thoughts. "You," boomed a very loud voice, "_Basra vashedan_. You have stolen our most sacred relic. The Qun demands that you return it, dathrasi."

And then, the whole building collapsed around her and the mass of people parted to make way for the largest Qunari she had ever seen. Behind him, dozens of Qunari followed. "I have brought Antaam," thundered the large Qunari. Pointing to her he said loudly, "Katara, bas. Ataash Qunari! Anaan essam Qun!"

Following that, his large qunari army removed their weapons and roared, "Ataash Qunari! Anaan essam Qun! Ataash Qunari! Anaan essam Qun!"

"Whore, thief, whore ,thief…" chanted the others.

That was it. She couldn't take it anymore. She closed her eyes. "I can make this go away. I can make all of this go away," she muttered to herself. "I just have to think of something logical. Then the dream will end."

She opened her eyes and looked around at the sea of faces about her. She spotted Hayder. "That's it," she said. "Hayder can't be here because Hawke and I killed him in the chantry, months ago." Everything went blank again and after a few more moments, she found herself in a bed, this time in her own room and thankfully, alone.

"Please let this not be another dream," she cried. But this time it wasn't. She was fully conscious now and her body relaxed as she took in the familiar surroundings of her room. Her bed was painfully simple, wooden, with a used mattress and a plain, white bed sheet. She wasn't naked now but much more covered than usual, in her white silk nightgown. She got up from the bed and hurried over to the chamber pot.

* * *

><p>"Did you sleep well Rivaini? I heard screams from your bedroom. Wanted to come in and check but then thought you might have some company, which might be the source of your screams."<p>

"It was a nightmare, Varric."

"A nightmare! Now what would that be for you. A month without a single attractive person to flirt with?"

"A month without a single attractive person to fuck with actually. You were so close."

"Ha ha ha. Well, good morning to you and welcome to my beautiful suite. I have to run so you have the open invitation to finish my untouched, grand breakfast. Bon appétit."

She laughed too. "And I'm very grateful for your generosity. But where are you off to so early in the morning?"

"Some stupid, family business to take care off. I'll be back in three days. Can you tell Isaac for me, beloved pirate-queen?"

Isabela laughed even louder at that. "Varric dear, you come up with the most imaginative nick-names," she said. "I do like this one though."

"Then I'll use it, from time to time. Well, see you in three days. Goodbye."

"Goodbye Varric. Goodbye Bianca."

As soon as he left, she turned her attention to the lavish feast, spread out before her. In twenty minutes, it was finished. She poured some of the leftover milk into a goblet and began sipping it. She always left the worst for last. Only having it because, she had heard somewhere that it was good for the skin.

As she slowly sipped her milk, Isabela recalled her nightmare. It had been the most vivid one she had ever had and she could still recollect every single detail. She shivered. She had to find that relic before Castillion got to her and before her friends discovered what it was. She removed a crumpled note from her pocket and read it for the hundredth time.

_I have information regarding your lost item. Meet me tomorrow night when the moon is high in the sky, in a secret spot of the Wounded Coast. Enclosed are directions to get there. COME ALONE OR DO NOT COME AT ALL._

_-Petruchio._

It had all the makings of your standard trap. Come to some secluded spot which no one knows, come at an unreasonable hour and come alone. She would never have thought to go if she weren't so desperate. It was her first lead in months and the Maker knew what lengths she had gone in order to find one. Still, she hadn't expected that note yesterday. It was handed to her by a dockworker who told her that a strange man had come by an hour before, while she had been away. The man had been dressed head to toe in Orlesian-style, navy blue armor and had a dark black centaur, emblazoned on his breastplate.

He was the one who had given the note to the said dockworker. She had recognized the description immediately. If not that, then the signature was proof enough. No one other than Petruchio (That was he called himself, but he was Bow-legged Pete to everyone else, due to his namesake deformity) could have sent that. He was one of her closest friends and one of the few honorable men that she had encountered. It had to be him. She hadn't seen him ever since she had begun working for Castillion. She had heard rumors about his death. And she had hoped against hope that they were false.

She had to take the risk. She had to see him even if it might be at the expense of her life.

"Varric, hope you have enough ale in the house today or we'll have to order another cask full again," said Isaac, entering Varric's suite with a huge grin on his face. The grin faded when he saw Isabela. She was equally startled to see him and immediately placed the goblet on the table and in her excitement, overturned it spilling all of the milk.

She gasped upon realizing her mistake. Grabbing a nearby washrag, she started to clean it.

Isaac was still stunned. He hadn't expected her to be here at this hour in the morning. She usually woke up late from what he had heard. But he was nevertheless surprised. Especially due to her attire. He had never seen her so much covered before. The nightgown set off her dark skin beautifully. Her thick dark hair was unbound and spilled over her shoulders in gorgeous, shiny curls. Her garish jewelry was absent and when she got up, he saw her bare neck for the first time.

She tucked back some of the hair that had spilled across her face and he found himself wanting to touch it. She looked so… different. Almost… innocent. She was still shocked to see him and her face didn't have that knowing look.

They stared at each other that way for some tense minutes when he finally decided to break the silence. "Where is Varric?" he asked, feeling his body tense up when he met her eyes.

"He's, he's… He just left half an hour before. He said he had some family business. He'll be back in three days."

"Oh. I had something important to discuss with him," said Isaac, looking down at the floor.

"What's the good news?"

"Huh?"

"When you came in here you seemed overjoyed and were talking about a celebration."

"Oh, that. I had been to see the Viscount today. They are giving us the family estate back."

"That's wonderful."

"Yes," he squeaked, trying desperately to hide the blush that was creeping up his neck.

They fell silent again and Isabela sat down. Isaac didn't. He remembered what he had come there for and the seriousness returned. "I… needed his help as well. Something has come up that Aveline has asked me to look into."

"What is it?"

"You remember that templar, Emeric, whom we had rescued three months ago."

"Yes, when we were searching for that man's lost wife."

"Aveline asked me to see him the other day. His investigations into the deaths of various murdered women seemes to have caused some embarrassment to the city guard. She says it's nothing serious and wants us to amuse him."

"Investigating the deaths of murdered women, sounds pretty serious to me."

"So I spoke to him. He says that it's the work of a serial killer and his main suspect is a man named, Gascard DuPuis."

"Does Aveline know this?"

"Yes and city guard conducted a raid on his house yesterday but found nothing suspicious."

"Hmm. So now he wants us to break into his house and conduct the investigation ourselves."

"Yes. And he suspects blood magic to be involved. So I need all the help I can get and as soon as possible."

"Very well. I can be ready in half an hour. How soon do you need me?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

"I… I actually have some plans. One of my contacts just acquired some information on the lost relic that I'm searching for and I have to meet him tonight."

"Oh… well, I'm planning to enter the DuPuis mansion after midnight, so I've asked everyone to assemble outside the Chantry, five minutes before the clock strikes twelve. So, if you can make it by then…"

"I'll try to finish my thing as early as possible."

"Okay, I suppose we could wait a few extra minutes for you then. But Isabela, please try to make it. Aveline is busy and Carver has his templar training. So it's just us three mages and Fenris. We badly need a rogue."

He was looking at her earnestly and she was overjoyed that he needed her. Well, only because Varric wasn't there but he still, he needed her. She was going to be on cloud nine all day. She looked intently into his eyes and said, "I'll be there."


	6. Desperate

Chapter 6: Desperate

Just as the letter had instructed, Isabella was about to arrive at the secluded spot on the Wounded Coast just '_when the moon was high in the sky'_. Actually she had arrived a little before that. No, not a little before, in fact much before. The moon wasn't even up yet and understandably the place was deserted. But she was eager to get this over with and join Isaac and the others on their mansion raid back in Kirkwall. _So _she had reasoned, _the sooner, the better._

She had followed all the instructions in the crude map carefully and was almost nearing the place marked as 'X'. Petruchio still hadn't gotten over his previous life as a pirate. She smiled as she thought of the exotic, futile treasure-hunts she had been along with him many years ago. They had travelled all over Thedas and she had never had so much fun in her life.

She was climbing up a small hill and her destination was at very next turn. The moment she reached there, she was struck by how different this place was from the rest of the area. There was very less sand here and a lot of mud and foliage. She was at the top of the hill. The terrain here was rougher and more disjointed. But the area was large. Roughly thousand yards and populated with undergrowth as far as the eye could see. She was standing in one of the patches of plain muddy spaces left on the ground. This was so unlike any of the places in Kirkwall that she had been to. _Where am I? _She wondered.

_Well, there's nothing to do but wait now_ she thought and found a smooth topped boulder nearby, and settled down for a long wait…

It was almost twilight when she heard the unmistakable tread of footsteps. She got off her makeshift seat and stood with weary anticipation. Now would be the moment of truth. Was she actually going to learn something useful today or would this be just another ambush?

Her position gave her an advantage. She was at the top of a hill, and although it was a large area, if she stood at the edge, she had a clear view of the winding road that led up to the top. The footsteps were getting closer and within seconds, she could make out the owner. He was dressed in the unmistakable armor of an Orlesian Chevailer and… he was bow-legged.

Isabella found herself grinning. By the time he was finally up, he found himself cannoned to the ground by a very dusky, and _very_ female pirate. "Oh Petruchio!" she screamed with delight. "I missed you so. I thought you were dead!" she said, hugging him furiously.

It took a while for him to free himself from Isabela's tight embrace and once she had let go, he slowly pulled himself off the ground.

"Nice to see you too Isabela. And I'm happy to be alive."

Isabela couldn't stop grinning. She was so happy to see him, she was rendered mute.

"You have been naughty Isabela. Thedas is rife with rumors about a certain precious relic stolen by a sexy, feisty, pirate-woman. And I could think of only _one_ person worthy of all those adjectives," he said.

"Well for the once the rumors were true. I indeed am sexy. As for the relic… well, you know that I've lost it. But since you have information about it…"

"Unfortunately I know nothing about that, Isabela. I only sent that note because I knew it was the only way I could get you out here."

"You don't have any information regarding the relic!" screamed Isabela. She was sorely disappointed. "What a cruel joke. I have been searching for that thing for months."

"I know and I'm greatly sympathetic towards your situation. But I really had to see you."

"Then you should have mentioned exactly that in the note; not that drivel about the relic."

"Hmmm… if I recall my note correctly, I hadn't mentioned anything about a 'relic', just a 'lost item'."

"Oh yeah, what other 'item' could I have possibly lost?" said Isabela. She was getting angrier by the minute. _How long are people going to make me run in circles? _she thought.

He sighed staring at the ground for a minute then looked up and stared at Isabela with such intensity that it unnerved her and she backed up a few paces.

"Tell me, Isabela," he said, not breaking the stare, "Would you have come up here all this way just to meet me?"

This dispelled her anger and Isabela felt immensely guilty. She looked up at him and shamefacedly admitted, "You're right. I wouldn't have."

He chuckled at that and said, "Now that's the feisty pirate I know. Large-hearted but can't help being selfish from time to time."

That annoyed her. "It isn't funny, bow-legged Pete. Not that I'm not pleased to see you but if that's all you had wanted, you could have met me right in Kirkwall. Why go through all the trouble of coming up here?"

"Don't call me that. And as it is, I do have a reason for summoning you here."

"Do you now? I can't begin to wonder…"

At that moment, she heard more footsteps. _Someone else was coming up._

Seeing that the pirate was suddenly unnerved and had halted mid-sentence, Petruchio calmly said, "There's no need to fear Isabela. The person approaching us is… shall we say… friendly towards our mutual cause."

Isabela's first instinct was to run. _True_ she thought, _I have always considered bow-legged Pete a friend and he has no reason to double-cross me but… if this is a trap…_

Before she could do anything more a heavily veiled figure, dressed completely in black appeared up the path that led to their hill and bean to walk towards them. Isabela stood her ground and bow-legged Pete whirled around to watch the figure make its way to where he and Isabela stood.

She was about to reach for her dagger when the new arrival discarded its veil. It was… was…

"Aliena!" she screamed and stared at the familiar face that had not quite faded from her memory. It was an older version than she remembered. The same icy-blue eyes, now slightly bigger but not so faded. The same straight, blonde hair, longer now and almost up to her waist. She too seemed to be appraising her. "Isabela," said the woman, "you've… you've grown so curvy!"

The pirate laughed. "And you're still slim, Alina. You've grown up to become so... beautiful. God, I've missed you so!"

With that, the two women ran toward each other and wrapped themselves in a tight embrace.

"I never thought, I'd see you again," said Alina, "After bow-legged Pete rescued us from the slaver's mansion, I went to Ferelden and you went off to… God knows where. What have you been upto, Isabela? Pete told me that you're in a lot of trouble!"

"I've been in trouble ever since I was born Alina. And as for my nefarious activities, you can get there illustrious details at any bar in Thedas ."

"No wonder I'm so ill-informed then! I never venture within two feet of one."

"You're just as I remember, Alina"

"And you're so different from what I remember of you!"

"Um… ladies" began their bow-legged companion, "It's really heart-warming to watch your reunion but I believe we are here to discuss something rather urgent."

"Oh yes," said Alina, disengaging from her friend's embrace. "Oh Isabela," I have some terrible news."

Isabela gulped. Ever since she had lost the relic that was how most people had begun their conversations with her.

She silently waited for Alina to continue. The woman took only a brief pause and then began, "After I returned to Ferelden, I immediately set off in search for my family. We used to live in a tiny village on the outskirts of Denerim and when I got there, I found that my father had died but my brother and younger brother were still alive. They were happy to see me and I had a home again. After four years, I married a travelling merchant and with him I travelled all over Thedas. Six years passed this way and one day he had some business in Orlais and had taken me with him. We were having dinner at inn one night when I spotted a man staring at me. He had such cruel green eyes! I couldn't shake off the feeling that I had seen him somewhere and I tried to search my memory. It was quite hazy and I had difficulty remembering. But then he grinned! It was such a malicious, mocking grin that it all came to me in a flash. It was our slaver, Garohn!"

Isabela shuddered. She too recalled that grin. It had borne an imprint in her memory forever. "But that's impossible Alina. How could it have been him? He had perished in that mansion all those years ago with the others."

"That's what I had thought Isabela, but he didn't. When I saw that grin, I recognized him and I cowered back in fear. When he saw that, he smirked. He came towards me and grabbed my hand."

"So you recognized me, little Alina," he had said, "I have been searching for you all these years. You are my property and you're coming with me!"

"When he said that, I screamed and called my husband over. Poor Billy, he instantly rushed to my side and demanded to know what was going on. Garohn said that I was his slave and had run away eleven years ago. Then he whirled me around and tore the back of my dress. On my shoulder was the slaver mark that they all branded us with when we first entered that wretched camp. He showed it to every person in the room including my husband. Then he showed them the same mark on his wrist and amulet and once again claimed that I was his property! I had never been so embarrassed in my life!"

Isabela was appalled. She knew that this story was going to have a tragic ending, yet she asked, "What did your husband say?"

"Billy said that he didn't care if it took place eleven years ago and that Garohn should stop harassing us. Unfortunately, Garohn was stronger and had many friends at the tavern. Billy and I were virtual newcomers. It didn't take them long to finish him off and spirit me away from there. Oh, my poor, poor Billy," she sobbed.

"Oh my God!" said Isabela "What happened then? How did you escape?"

Alina said nothing. Once the tears had started, she couldn't contain them anymore and gave full vent to her feelings. It was Pete who answered in her stead. "Luckily I was in Orlais when it happened and heard about it in another tavern. I didn't know anything about this Garohn but the description of a Ferelden woman with straight blonde hair and blue eyes, made me think of Alina for some reason; especially when they said that she was an ex-slave. I thought I should check and managed to locate their slaver done. I posed as a prospective buyer and when they brought her before me, I knew it was her. Seeing my interest, they quoted a high price and I didn't have the sum. So I gave them some information instead."

Listening to the two of them, Isabela had done some thinking of her own and she was beginning to see where this was leading to. "Let me guess… bow-legged Pete, you gave them some valuable information which turned out to be false and now they are after you and Alina. I bet you have brought her to me for refuge. Why though? You know my reputation. I have built it entirely upon the precipice of jeopardy! I'm hardly the one you'd come running to if you sought safety," said Isabela, a little incredulously.

He gave a throaty laugh that rang out through the deserted clearing. "Your brain is sharp as ever Isabela. Woe to him who crosses you. As you shrewdly guessed, that's exactly why I have brought our young friend here. Alone, I can look after myself but her safety is altogether another matter. I do not just wish to dump her on you though. There is another reason why we had to see you."

"And what would that be?"

"You still haven't guessed? You aren't as shrewd as I thought, then!"

"Oh, quit the smart talk Pete. Give me the low-down."

"As you wish, Captain Isabela. You see, the information I parted with were your whereabouts, which, as you guessed correctly were also false. I have therefore come to warn you that your ex-slaver is after you as well as Alina. In fact, it was you he originally wanted. He captured Alina because he felt that she would know something about you."

"Oh great," groaned Isabela, "Now along with the Qunari and Castillon, I can add an ex-slaver to my list of people who are desperate to get me!"

She thought for a second then said, "Although I don't think that the Qunari really qualify as people."


End file.
